


Luminescence

by lvcoloredmagic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus, Beforus Ancestors, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvcoloredmagic/pseuds/lvcoloredmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never wanted to change anything, not originally. He just wanted to prove himself, and maybe find someplace he could fit in along the way.<br/>It's just too bad things never go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about Beforus Karkat, Kankri's ancestor.  
> This operates under the idea that when Feferi took over as empress, Beforus was not as peaceful as it was later on, in the time of the alpha trolls. That being said, it also was not as violent as Alternia, due to the lack of Doc Scratch's influence. Nonetheless, it took a number of sweeps for the planet to become the Beforus we hear about in canon.

A jadeblooded troll stood in the brooding caverns. Indeed, several did, as this was a location in which jadeblooded trolls could often be found; after all, this was their job, the job of their caste. At this point in time, this particular jadeblooded troll was frozen in spot, having just heard an explosion from outside. Her peers stood around her, some heading outside to investigate the sound, others checking on the grubs they were tasked with protecting. She thought for a moment before making a decision and running outside to join the others who had decided to investigate in the spirit of curiosity.

When she arrived outside, she saw several trolls standing around a crater, looking into it. She stepped to the edge of it, peering down in curiosity. What she saw surprised her greatly, and she understood why the others were staring into the crater's depths.

Within the crater, which appeared to have been forged by a meteor's collision, was a single small, bright red grub, squeaking agitatedly. She let out a small gasp, looked at the others who were making no move, then scrambled down into the crater, lifting her skirt up from around her ankles. When she arrived at the bottom, she bent down and carefully picked up the wriggler. It squeaked at her, peering up into her face, its bright red eyes bright. She gazed back at it for a moment before scrambling back out of the crater, careful of the grub in her arms. When she climbed out, the other trolls around her stared, their gazes fixed on the tiny red grub. After another moment of this staring, she spoke.

“Come on, let's get this one inside. We need to get in contact with someone.”

\-----

 

Official Notice of Highblood Duties

As issued by the Royal Department for the Care of Lowbloods and Other Incapable Individuals

 

Mr Makara,

In accordance with section 43B of the Peixes Decree, you have been assigned to fulfill your duties as a highblood. You will become the legal guardian of a young troll who lacks a lusus to act as its guardian. Due to a number of factors, it is unclear how long your duties will last, but it should be no longer than eleven solar sweeps.

As you know, taking in a lesser troll who has been deemed incapable of self-care by the Committee is an honor, and a burden, one that we mus-

 

“Blah, blah, blah, motherfuckin' blah.” the highblooded troll crumpled the paper, having decided that he didn't need to read it any further. So he was going to have to take care of some little motherfucker, huh? Wasn't that just up and motherfucking great. Maybe he'd have to teach it a thing or two. Show it the ways of the world. Get it to know the Messiahs.

The damn letter said that the wiggler would be arriving that night and to prepare accordingly, making sure his hive was nice and ready for the presence of such a tiny little thing.

A few hours later, there was a knock at the door. The Serendipitous Butcher was pretty sure he'd cleaned up the all of the blood left on the floor from a few nights ago, but he still opened the door as little as possible, just in case. As expected, an official-looking troll stood there, holding an official-looking basket, which contained a not-so official-looking bundle of blankets. The unofficial appearance of these blankets was carefully balanced by a large, official-looking envelope containing within it a number of papers that were almost certainly as official-looking as the envelope that held them.

After speaking with this troll for several minutes and signing multiple papers, he was finally handed the basket and bid a good night. He slammed the door, set everything down on a table, and then pulled away the blankets to see what this wiggler looked like, anyway.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but that probably wasn't it.


	2. Chapter 2

The Serendipitous Butcher looked down into the basket, and all thoughts of what fun he could have with this grub vanished from his mind. It stared up at him with wide red eyes, tangled black hair falling into its face. The grub squeaked, sounding slightly agitated, but the Butcher didn't acknowledge it, too busy mentally reviewing the hemospectrum and every single shade of blood he had ever encountered. After a while, he spoke to the grub.

“Well, now where do you fit in, little one? I can't remember a time when I saw a motherfucker with your color. You must be some kind of miracle. I think I'll just have to up and motherfucking keep you.”

He picked the grub up, examining it closely before setting it back down in the basket. Then a thought struck him.

“A gift from the Messiahs like this can't be motherfucking kept to myself. I'll have to up and go spread the wicked motherfucking word, make sure everyone hears the news. But what's a motherfucker to do if someone comes and steals this little miracle away from me?” He walked over to the door for one of the unused respiteblocks that littered his hive. Opening the door carefully, he glanced inside at the dusty room, mentally appraising it before making a decision.

Wandering back over to the table that held the basket where the bright red grub still lay, the Serendipitous Butcher muttered to himself,

“I'll just have to up and lock you in to make sure nobody can ever motherfucking steal a miracle like you.”

 ----- 

Looking back one last time at the room he had set up for the grub he was now to take care of, the Serendipitous Butcher closed and locked the door.

“Sweet motherfucking dreams, Karkat, my little miracle.” he whispered.

Back in the main room of his hive, the Butcher picked up the bag containing such important items as his clubs, several horns, and a pack of Faygo. Yes, this was what he'd need for the journey ahead of him.

The Butcher had decided that the little bright red miracle which had shown up on his lawn ring couldn't be kept to himself. He planned to go out on one of his typical journeys across Beforus, but rather than simply seeking out and killing whatever lowblood nonbelievers he could find, he would instead preach to his fellow purplebloods about this miracle, knowing that they would love to hear about it.

Reminding himself one last time to leave enough food for the grub and then concluded that he had indeed done so, the Serendipitous Butcher stepped out of his hive and into the clear night, ready to spread the word of his miracle.

The trolls he was going to meet out there had better up and motherfucking listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you write Gamzee, anyway?  
> After this the story turns to focus on Karkat.


	3. Chapter 3

Karkat Vantas pressed his ear up against the door, listening carefully for any signs that his custodian was still somewhere in the hive. He held his breath while he listened, straining to hear. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he breathed out, stepping away from the door. Finally, his custodian had left and now he could relax a little.

“It's about damn time.” he muttered to himself. At the age of five sweeps, he was more than accustomed to dealing with the times when his custodian was in the hive. The Serendipitous Butcher scared the shit out of him; even though logically Karkat knew that it was unlikely his custodian would ever intentionally bring him physical harm (after all, the inspectors come around four times a sweep and would be pretty mad if they showed up only to find Karkat dead), he still knew what the highblood did, how he got his title, and the thought terrified him. 

Content that he was now alone in the hive, Karkat began pacing back and forth across his respiteblock. He didn't dare move around too much when the Butcher was around, and he had gotten extremely restless over the past few nights. Well, more restless than usual, that is. It had been nearly half a sweep since he had last been allowed out of the respiteblock, and he was beginning to forget once more what the air outside smelled like. He had a window in his block, of course, but it just wasn't the same. 

Sighing, Karkat walked over to where the food he had been left was kept in order to take an inventory and ration it out for himself. He wasn't sure how long the Butcher would be gone, of course, but he had a good idea, and knew by now how to make sure his food would last long enough; he had gone hungry enough times in the past and knew better than to just eat whenever he wanted. 

\------

After assessing his food situation, Karkat's mood had deteriorated. He had even less food than usual. Presumably this meant that the Butcher wouldn't be gone as long, but Karkat feared that his custodian had simply skimped out on the food, not bothering to leave him enough. When he thought about it, both options were unpleasant to him. On one hand, he was potentially starving, but on the other, he was cowering in the corner of his respiteblock like a wriggler who had wandered too far and left the care of the jadebloods.

“Great, just great.” he muttered, leaning against a wall, resting a bare foot on it. Staring at the wall across from him, he became lost in thought for several moments before realizing that, out of the corner of his eye, he could see something on the ceiling that he hadn't ever noticed before.

“What the hell?” he murmured, moving to stand directly underneath the spot. Squinting up at the ceiling, he realized that there was a square outline present. The entrance to a disused attic? Karkat mentally reviewed the hive's layout and determined that directly above him was some room or another, not an attic. Would it be possible for him to reach the room above? 

Curious, he pulled a rickety table across the room and then stood on it. Reaching up, he could just barely grab the edges of the square with his fingertips. He stood on his tiptoes, hooked his fingers into the crevice of the door's edges, and then pulled as hard as he could. The force caused the table to rock backwards then tip over, sending Karkat tumbling to the floor. Swearing, he righted the table and then tried again, more determined now that he had already failed once. After several minutes of struggling, Karkat finally pulled the door free from its jamb, revealing a hole that led up into a dark room. Now he just had to figure out how to get up there. 

In his block, he had a small recuperacoon (he hadn't slept in it in quite a long time as the sopor was ridiculously stale), a cabinet, a table, a pile of blankets, couch cushions, and pillows he called his fort, and a single, lone chair. After looking around the room, he decided to set the chair up on the table, with numerous pillows on the floor around it, just in case. He carefully clambered up the stack of furniture, and then awkwardly pulled himself up through the hole, at one point wiggling around in the air, his head and arms in the room above while his torso and legs dangled down. Eventually he got up into the room above, and coughed on the dusty air. The room was empty, completely lacking in furniture. A glance out the window told him he was on the third level of the hive. 

After a quick investigation of the room, Karkat approached the door, silently hoping as he reached out for the handle. He attempted to turn the handle, but it didn't give. He pulled harder, pushing against the door and as he became frustrated. Then, a breakthrough. The handle turned, and he was able to push the door open. Beyond it, he saw a hallway, with a few other doors along it on both sides and at its end. He strode to the last door, excitement building within him at the prospect of actually getting out of here. When the door at the end of the hall opened with ease to reveal a descending staircase, he could hardly believe his luck. The urge to run down the stairs filled him, but he resisted, instead carefully stepping down, remaining as silent as possible. At the bottom of the stairs, he could peek through the entrance to the rest of the hive, and he was just about to step through when he heard a sound, like a thud, coming from outside. He froze in place, eyes wide. Then, in a split-second decision, he raced back up the stairs, down the hall, and through the door into the dusty room, pulling it shut behind him. He then jumped down through the hole in the floor that led back to his respiteblock, hitting a horn against the table on the way down and falling onto his cushion of pillows. He let out a pained sound, but was too panicked to stop and assess if he had injured himself or not. He reoriented the chair on top of the table, climbed up, pushed the ceiling door shut, and then jumped down and quickly shoved all furniture back into its place. Breathing heavily, he collapsed into his now destroyed pile and waited.

Several minutes passed, and Karkat remained silent, listening to his surroundings and rubbing his horn in an attempt to determine if he had hurt it. It didn't seem to be damaged, but he was nervous nonetheless. He resolved to try to find a reflective surface to examine his reflection in it as soon as possible.

After several more quiet minutes, Karkat began to realize that he had panicked over nothing. Feeling extremely stupid, he began reviewing the path he took to escape his block, attempting to comfort himself with the fact that he now knew how to get out. After five sweeps, he now had something to give him hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Books were spread out across the floor, taken from a dusty bookshelf that was almost certainly just for show, just to show off highblood status (but then again, some of the books had pages folded over, stains on the covers, fingerprints on the edges of the pages, so perhaps they weren't as unread as he had initially suspected). One corner of the hive's main room, with a low, long table in the center of it, had been designated Karkat's area by himself. He would have to of course clean everything up and quickly hide it all were his custodian to return, but he didn't much care. 

All of the debris left behind by his custodian, Faygo bottles and horns and little scraps of broken objects, had been shoved across the room and replaced with a nice pile of blankets, books, and whatever else he could find that was suitable. With easy access to the nutrition block, Karkat could spend all night sitting here reading and snacking, and then could sleep in the pile during the day. It was risky, but so much more enjoyable than the alternative. 

He had thrown himself horns first into learning, quickly acquiring knowledge on all topics; language, history, science, sociology, politics. He didn't understand quite a bit of it at first, but as he kept reading, he was able to piece together all that he learned and begin forming an idea of the world outside. It sounded so much nicer than in here, so much bigger than he could even begin to imagine. He learned that when he turned nine sweeps he could try to appeal his culling and ask to be allowed to live his own life, taking care of himself. It was only four or five sweeps in the future, and he would get there eventually, but for now he had to start working on preparing to prove himself capable and worthy of that freedom. 

He was sitting in his pile when he heard a sound from outside. He paused and tilted his ears, trying to listen. After a few seconds, he was able to make out the sound of footsteps approaching the hive. Shit. Karkat jumped up and looked around at his mess. He hadn't actually thought through what he would do when his custodian returned. 

This was bad, this was really really fucking bad, he thought to himself, gathering up everything and trying to shove it out of sight. Fuck, no, that wouldn't work. He stood up and looked around frantically, then froze as the door opened. The tall figure of his custodian came into view, standing in the doorway, wild hair and tall horns most distinguishable. 

“Whoa. What the motherfuck do you think you're doing? Why are you out of your block?” 

Karkat didn't answer, too busy panicking and trying to not cry. He picked up a book and threw it, watched it bounce off the highblood's chest; his custodian looked down at it and frowned, then stepped forward, pulling out a club and raising it. Karkat stifled a gasp, which came out sounding like a squeak, then reached down, grabbed a book, and ran, ducking around his custodian and running out the door, not daring to look back.

He was so fucked. 

\-----

He was running, faster and further than he had ever run before (though, he hadn't ever run before, really). His chest hurt, and his breath was coming in short gasps, but he didn't dare stop. He had to keep going, because who knew what would happen if he stopped. What consequences were there for a culled troll who ran away? Karkat didn't know, and he also did not particularly feel like finding out, either. 

After what felt like sweeps, Karkat slowed his pace to a walk, trying to catch his breath. He was wandering through a small group of hives, no more than twenty or thirty. A gust of wind blew through the spaces between the hives, and he shivered. Fuck, it was too cold tonight. Dressed only in a thin, short-sleeved shirt and torn pants, he was massively unprepared for life outside of his old hive. He hadn't really thought of this when he ran, though. He just saw the opportunity and took it before it was too late, knowing he would later regret it if he didn't run while he could. 

At the edge of the group of hives, Karkat noticed a line with clothes hanging on it, swaying gently in the night breeze. After a moment of staring and internal argument, he made a decision and wandered over to the line, looking around to make sure nobody was around. It was currently very late, and the sun would be rising soon; most trolls had already returned to their hives for the day. Sun curtains had been drawn shut, and there was no sound except for the tree frogs chirping and the wind blowing through the grass on the lawnrings. Yeah, it was pretty safe.

Reaching up, Karkat began examining the clothes on the line. Even the smallest articles of clothing were too big for him, and he was able to conclude that this hive was probably inhabited by at least one seven-sweep-old. Oh well, this was as good as he was going to get. He pulled a pair of plain gray pants down from the line, and then searched in vain for a shirt that didn't bear a sign. Giving up on that, he was about to walk away with just the pants when he noticed a darker gray piece of fabric near the end. Tugging on it until it came free from the line, he held it out before him and realized that it was a simple traveling cloak. Perfect. Pulling this on, he clutched his other acquisition to his chest and ran into the forest to find shelter for the day.


	5. Chapter 5

A lot of time had passed since Karkat had ran away from the hive where he spent the first five sweeps of his life, and now, as he reflected on his old way of life, it really seemed like a story belonging to a stranger; he could remember living like that, of course. He would never forget. However, since then he had learned to fight with a stolen sickle, how to throw a punch and how to knock out an enemy. He had improved his linguistic abilities, having gone from barely being able to speak to being able to convince other trolls of just about anything with the right words and the right body language (though that didn't mean that conversing with other trolls no longer made him nervous). He had learned the difference between poisonous and safe plants, how to find or hunt for food, and how to tell if water was safe to drink or not.

But, he had also learned his place; he had come to know that he had to hide his blood, that he would never fit in anywhere. Once he realized what the hemospectrum was, how it worked and effected all of society, and how he didn't fit in anywhere, he began doing everything he could to conceal the bright red in his veins, to keep it hidden from the trolls around him. It wasn't just that he had been culled as a wiggler, as many lowbloods deemed incapable of surviving on their own are are. It was that he would never be able to move past it, that society would always view him as nothing more than just a mutant.

It drove him batshit up the fucking belfry just thinking about it.

For now, Karkat was making his way down a narrow side street, glancing around cautiously as he walked. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, shivering in the cool breeze blowing off the ocean. He didn't belong in this seaside town, full of wealthy highbloods and marked with extravagant hives. However, his travels had brought him here and he wouldn't be leaving until the following night, so he would just have to deal with his discomfort and simply be slightly more careful than usual to avoid anyone noticing that his eyes were several shades too bright to be normal.

Before long, he heard a clamor coming from several streets over, and wondered vaguely what it was before remembering that Her Imperial Radiance was to be visiting this town tonight, as it was among those closest to her palace and such visits good for publicity or something like that (O _dd, considering that she's going to be empress for a really long time, whether or not anyone actually likes her,_ Karkat thought idly). After briefly considering the situation, he began walking in the direction the noise was coming from, having decided to try to get a closer look. After all, it wasn't every night you got a chance to see the Empress in person. He had no plans to approach her, of course. He just wanted to see from a distance.

Soon he could see the intimidating crowd, full of highbloods. A few midbloods stood along the edges, but he could see nobody lower than olive. Pulling his hood down over his face self-consciously, he stepped forward and blended into the crowd, standing near a small group of trolls who just kept talking, ignoring him completely. As he watched, the empress, surrounded by her guards, walked down the street, smiling warmly and occasionally greeting groups of trolls. Then, after several minutes of this, she stopped and gestured for her guards to back away so that she could address the crowd.

“Good night, everyone. It is so lovely to see your faces tonight. I always...

Karkat turned his attention away, having seen a movement out of the corner of his eye, coming from a dark alley in between two large hives. He stared at the space, searching for the source of the movement. Then, he saw it; a dark shape had approached and settled itself near the edge of the alley, virtually invisible behind a stack of boxes. That is, unless you knew where to look.

He frowned and watched the shape closely as it jostled around in its cover of darkness. Then, all at once he realized what was about to happen, just as the figure emerged from the darkness and pulled out a long, thin rifle-like weapon. He ran forward from the crowd, pushing several other trolls out of the way, and drawing a sickle, he jumped at the attacker.

\------

There was screaming. Karkat could register that much, could hear the screaming of onlookers in the crowd as they surged backwards, trying to escape from the violence unfolding before them. However, this wasn't relevant, and he simply pushed this information aside to focus on the fight he was now right in the middle of. The attacker was strong, but Karkat was smaller, faster, and he was using that to his full advantage.

Evading an attempt to grab him, Karkat moved around his opponent, swinging his sickle and leaving a long gash running down the troll's back. He then used the outside of the blade to smack the would-be assassin's hand and try to take their weapon, but failed. If he could just get close enough, Karkat could end this fight with a well-placed punch, but he would have to plan his moves carefully. His chance came after the other troll stumbled, and Karkat aimed a punch at the troll's jaw that would...yes!

No.

Shit.

Karkat's eyes widened, and he stumbled back even as he watched the failed assassin fall unconscious to the ground. He looked down at a hand and saw it was wet, covered in bright red. Some part of his mind was screaming at the color, and another was screaming from the pain. Either way, he felt like screaming. He turned to try to leave, to escape before anyone noticed the color he was bleeding, before anyone noticed that he was _wrong_ , but only saw a flash of fuchsia before falling backwards, hitting the hard ground, and blacking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jumps, amiright?  
> Finally, stuff is happening. It's about time.


	6. Chapter 6

Karkat opened his eyes, and the unfamiliar surroundings made him want to jump up and run, but as soon as he sat up pain shot through his shoulder, and he quickly decided to not do that again. Slowly laying back down on the sleeping platform he was on, he glanced around the room and found he was alone save for one seadweller, perhaps around his age (or perhaps not), sitting a little ways away. 

“Oh, you're awake. Finally.” the seadweller said, and Karkat frowned. 

“What?” 

“You've been unconscious for the past five nights.”

Karkat thought about this. Five nights? What had even happened? 

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

“Well, you're a freak, but you saved the life of the Empress, and that's rather admirable, so I wanted to come and talk to you. Who are you, anyway?”

He hesitated before replying, “Karkat. I'm Karkat.”

“Well, Karkat, I'm the Archmage, but you may call me Eridan Ampora” the seadweller said this in a way that suggested he wanted Karkat to be impressed.

“Okay, well--” Karkat's next words were cut off by the arrival of a tealblood troll who turned to adderss him in a businesslike manner.

“Oh good, you're finally awake. The Empress wishes to speak to you.”

Karkat's next words were nothing if not eloquent. “She what?”

“I said, the...Empress...wishes...to...speak...to...you.” The troll spoke slowly, deliberately, and pointed at Karkat with the word 'you'. Karkat scowled slightly, then forced his expression to clear as to avoid getting into any trouble in this strange new location with all these highbloods around.

“Yeah, I got that. What I meant was, why the hell does she want to talk to me?”

The tealblood gave him a look that said 'you're not quite bright, are you?' and then spoke in a tone that suggested that this all was painfully obvious. 

“You stopped an assassination attempt and saved Her Radiance's life. Of course she wants to talk to you, about that and, well, your blood.” This last part was quickly spat out, and the troll seemed almost uncomfortable.

Karkat made a face. Of fucking course. That's what it always was going to come down to, wasn't it? So what if he threw himself on an assassin and got hurt saving the Empress' life. No, he was first and foremost a mutant, and always would be. 

“Fine. Let's go see the Empress, then.”

\------

After the tealblooded troll had gotten Karkat into a four wheel device, which he insisted he didn't need, but after he tried to stand up and promptly fell he stopped arguing about it, he found himself getting an impromptu tour of the royal palace as they made their way down to what seemed to be the throne room. After several minutes and a lot of staring at various paintings and tapestries on Karkat's behalf, the troll pulled the device to a stop about seven feet in front of Her Imperial Radiance herself. 

The fuchsia blood was smiling at him, a way that, well, radiated benevolence. 

“Hello, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

Karkat stared. Did the Empress of Beforus just call him 'sweetie'? And then ask how he was feeling? Wait, shit. She's waiting for a response. Should he bow? He was already sitting, so instead he opted to tilt his head down and look at the floor instead, speaking directly to it as he replied, “I'm feeling alright, thank you.” Wait, is that even how you talk to royalty? Are there guidelines to this?

“Oh, good. I would just hate for you to be feeling unwell here during your first night awake in the palace! So, let's get down to business. Tell me about yourself, dear.”

This was worse than Karkat had expected. 

“I...um.” 

“How about you start with your name? That is, assuming you have one?” She was looking at him with a strange mix of interest and caring, and it frankly made Karkat feel uncomfortable. It just didn't seem...real. He filed away this thought for later and turned his attention on the actual situation so he could focus on trying to speak coherently. 

“Yeah, I have a name. It's Karkat Vantas.”

Her Imperial Radiance nodded. 

"Good, that's a good start. Now, where did you come from?”

He sighed.

“I'm not really from anywhere at this point; I just travel around to find food and shelter. I mean, I used to live in a hive, but not anymore.”

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

Karkat hesitated. He couldn't reveal too much. What if she had him sent back there, all these sweeps later? What would happen to him? 

“I left. It wasn't someplace I needed to be anymore.”

The Empress frowned slightly at this, but moved on. 

“And so I assume you're on your own now? Without anywhere to go or any reliable source of food, water, and shelter?”

He nodded slightly. Where the hell was she going with this? 

“Well, perhaps we could find a place for you here, in the palace. There are numerous trolls living and working here, be it in the kitchens, on the cleaning staff, or in Squad One of the Royal Defensive Guard, working to protect the palace and all the trolls within. You demonstrated a proficiency in defense and an admirable selflessness when you fought to protect me, you know.” She smiled at him. Karkat's eyes widened.

“Are you actually suggesting that I join the guard?”

“Well, I wouldn't rule out the possibility. You would have to undergo an interview process to ensure that you're a good fit for the job, but I think you would do well as part of the guard. Oh, and of course you'll have to also have a physical examination. Your...unique hemotype leaves a lot of room for uncertainty, and we will have to be sure that you are strong enough for the job. The minimum hemotype permitted into the guard is generally gold, though brownbloods may join if they are deemed capable. Whether or not you will be able to just depends on how well you do during the physical examination.” 

Not trusting himself to be able to respond verbally to this bombshell, Karkat just nodded.

“Oh, and you will of course have to select a title before anything else. I was thinking that perhaps the Luminary would be a good fit for you.” It was not a question. He was being given a title by the Empress herself. 

“The Luminary,” he repeated. “Sounds good, I guess.”

“Excellent! Once you're up and walking again I'll have one of my assistants schedule the examinations for you. I hope to see you join us here in the palace soon.” 

With that, the troll who had brought him in turned the four wheel device around and pushed him back the way they came. This time, however, he was too busy mentally replaying these events to pay attention to the surroundings. When he made it back to his sleeping platform within the palace infirmary, he considered his situation.

Joining the royal guard. Well, it could work, Karkat thought. He was a capable fighter, after all. But would they even let him in? The Empress had talked about an examination and hinted that lowbloods aren't exactly commonplace or even welcome in the guard. Where would a mutant fit into all of this? And then there was that title. The Luminary. Sanctimonious as hell, it didn't fit Karkat at all, and yet he was stuck with it at this point. Trolls don't just refuse a title given to them by Her Imperial Radiance herself. It just doesn't happen. 

He pressed his hands up to his face and sighed, closing his eyes and then laying back on the soft sleeping platform, reserved for the seriously ill or injured. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, and though it was an uneasy sleep, he didn't wake up again until the following night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eridan! Feferi! Generic background character!


End file.
